Page 40 of Katie's Highlander (Highland Protector 3)
Without a doubt, MacDara blood flowed in the boy’s veins. Ramsay returned to the chieftain’s table, shaking his head against what couldna possibly be true. He turned to the room, one hand holding his spear and the other on the back of Katie’s chair. He nodded down at Gerta and Brant. “These two are welcomed here as members of Clan Ross—but that is all.”
He held up a hand to silence the instantaneous murmuring resulting from his announcement. “I do not accept this young man as my son until I have sought both my wife’s and the goddesses’ counsel.”
Then he lifted his tankard to the room. “Now, feast. I command it.”
Chapter 17
Katie stomped her way into the bedchamber and slammed the door behind her.Great. Just fucking great.Just when she’d improved this little jaunt through the Scottish twilight zone with an epically mind-blowing afternoon of the best sex she’d ever had, everything had to go straight to hell in a handbasket with the arrival of Ramsay’s…whatever the fuck Gerta was…and his damn son. And with thedie bitchlooks Gerta had repeatedly fired in her direction all through the feast, the woman was locked and loaded for a fight.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.Fuck had now become the official word of the day.
The door hinges squeaked a warning of another entry into the room.
“I can undress myself, Flora. Out!” She jerked her thumb in the direction of the door without looking up from her bodice full of knotted laces that she was doing her damnedest to loosen. “If you value your life…you’ll leave. Now.”
She’d managed a show of solidarity down in the great hall—more for her own sake than Ramsay’s. She’d be damned if she gave these Highland women an excuse to whisper and shake their heads over their chieftain’s poor jilted wife.
She yanked on the laces again, only succeeding in cinching them tighter.Ramsay’s mine.The inner mantra rumbled through her with a strength that had her hands shaking. “I hate these fucking laces!”
All mine.She picked at the knotted ties and forced herself to calm down a level. Not only was Ramsay hers but she needed him as a way back to the twenty-first century. No bitch on earth was going to steal her one-way ticket back to hot showers, deodorant, and minty fresh toothpaste. Maybe she’d roughed it just fine on digs. That was expected, and the duration of the self-imposed depravation was a known factor. Butthis,she sure as hell hadn’t expectedthisand who knew how long it could last? She was more than ready to end this unexpected visit to the tenth century and its lack of conveniences that made life so much easier.
“I could make sure that Gerta woman and her son drown in the cesspit, ye ken? I have many brothers. They’d take care of it.” Flora pattered closer, wringing her hands together as she spoke in a soft conspiratorial tone. “Nary a soul would e’er find them,” she added. The look on her face assured Katie that she was quite serious.
“None a that, Flora.” Ramsay’s deep voice made Katie turn toward the far corner of the room.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” She’d clearly told himnotto follow her.
Katie turned on Flora. “Did I not tell you I wanted to be alone? Alone means just me. Not you.” Katie jerked her head in Ramsay’s direction. “And definitely not him.”
“I didna let him in—he used the chieftain’s passages.” Flora huffed her way over, swept Katie’s hands away from the dress’s bodice, and untied the stubborn laces with a few quick tugs. She stepped back and gave Katie a hurt look. “There. That’s done. I’ll leave ye now, m’lady. I’ll be in m’wee room just off yer chambers if ye have need of the least thing.” She paused at the door and dramatically sniffed. “Call me for yer slightest need—aye? I assure ye, my dedication is true.”
Frustration building, Katie watched Flora leave then turned on Ramsay. “See what you made me do?” She jabbed a finger toward the door that had just closed behind Flora. “Yelling at her is like kicking a puppy!”
Ramsay didn’t spare the door a sideways glance, just marched across the room and took hold of both of Katie’s hands. “I dinna know that woman, Katie. I swear it.”
“Well the boy looks like he fell right out of the MacDara family tree and if that’s not convincing enough, he’s got that disappearing tattoo.” She yanked off the cloying yardage of the ornate overdress and threw it across the trunk at the foot of the bed. She turned back to Ramsay and lifted her right wrist, jabbing her fist in the air. “And thatwomanhas the same mark. It’s on her left arm instead of the right but it’s the same mark. Explain how the hell she got that if you didn’t marry her.”
“The goddesses wouldha marked her t’protect the boy whilst he was in her womb. They marked her to ensure she was taken in. Did ye no’ see how faded and broken the colorations were? And if ye had looked closer, ye wouldha noticed that her mark is different from yers. Her mark is no’ that of a wife or mate. Her mark merely signified she carried a child of a protector and it shouldha faded away as soon as the lad was born. I’d bet m’best dagger that she’s had it inked over t’keep her status with Clan Ross.”
“The drama around you just keeps getting better.” Katie carefully removed the diadem from her forehead and bitterly hefted it in one hand. “What the hell else are you going to spring on me since you put such a great spin on life?” A hollow sense of victory filled her when Ramsay’s shoulders sagged, and his gaze dropped to the floor.
She shook the diadem back at him as she walked over to the dressing table. “You said she’s got the mark of someone who’s lain with a protector. That narrows down the playing field—at least as far as who fathered that kid is concerned. Plain and simple, were you the MacDara son who fucked her? Or did you have sex with so many women back then that you just can’t remember them all?”
She knew Ramsay hadn’t been a virgin—would’ve been shocked if he had been. Butdamn—shit got real when one of his past lovers turned up with a son. Andthatwoman? Really? Granted, seventeen years of struggling to survive would change a person’s personality as well as their looks butdamn.
Silence filled the room, growing into a dark malevolent thing that threatened to add fuel to the already serious situation.
You better hurry up and answer me,the singsong voice in her head silently warned Ramsay. If he stalled too long, that meant he was probably having to work up a pretty good lie.
With a reverent touch, she managed to unfasten the necklace around her throat. Carefully, she placed both the diadem and the necklace in the box on the dressing table and closed it. Even as pissed as she was, she’d never treat those items with disrespect. Turning back to Ramsay, she held up both hands and shrugged. “Well? What’s the matter? Don’t have any good lies left?”
“I have not lied to ye.” Ramsay shifted from whipped-dog look to insulted silverback-gorilla stance. “I have no other words for ye except that I swear I dinna remember that woman—I dinna believe I e’er laid with her.”
“But you’re not sure?” she fired back.
Ramsay didn’t answer.
She was too damned tired to figure out if he was lying or not. She rubbed the heels of her hands against her temples and wished like hell she’d never turned off the interstate back at Brady, North Carolina.
